The doctor, who insists that I cite him as “Dr. Franz,” has a habit of holding his hand over his mouth as he giggles. He wears a white lab coat like a scientist from the movies, but this is an affectation. Everyone at Snuggle Club wears the coats, the same way Walmart ‘partners’ wear blue shirts...

Matthew Bey
The Least Deserving Campbell Award in History
Art by Aaron Cambridge

Totally, totally skeeved out.This is one of those stories that I made me grip the steering wheel, wince and grimace, and otherwise look like I'm giving birth as I was driving.
Awesome, horrible, grimy, adorable... I could feel their dead, dry flesh as I entered the pool.

That was absolutely sick and icky. Mostly because it was so plausible. The woman who dives in the pool of snuggleflesh makes me think of that woman who calls her dog "baby," feeds it $20 entrees and puts a different sweater on it every day of the week. There are lots of people who just want something to love them. There are even girls who want babies for that reason! Well, here's something the fulfills that psychological niche perfectly: It always wants to snuggle. And it doesn't poop!

The great and horrible thing about this idea is that it is evident that the zombies are zombies. They want to kill you. They want to rip out your intestines and eat them while you watch. And the humans at Snuggle Club have convinced themselves that this behavior is affection(!). This is the human tendency to project one's own desires taken to its hyperbolic maximum. The zombies try their very hardest to rip off the people's faces, and the people think it's cute(!). The humans' delusion is so extreme that they interpret the clear and obvious evidence for one conclusion as proof of its opposite.

Okay, I decided: I like this story. It's a treatise on human nature. And it's true.

What great scheduling. Movie after movie we watch people try to survive the onset of a zombie apocalypse. Over at the Drabblecast we get a peek at what might happen if we lost, and here we see one of the (unfortunately) inevitable results of our winning out against the onslaught. Never underestimate the human capacity to find new and interesting ways to indulge the wealthy.

"Sometimes I believe in as many as six impossible things before breakfast."
"That is an excellent practice. But right now I'd suggest you concentrate on the Jabberwocky."

Hilarious. Very cool story. The suburban, overweight, pathetic woman seemed an obvious market for the club. But I want to throw in the mix that this actually reminded me of an ex-boyfriend, who I still refer to as Mr. PDA. He always wanted to sit all squished up together on the same side of the booth when it was just the two of us. Never seemed to figure out that I don't want to be hand-fed french fries in public. He seemed so hurt by that. Sigh. Still wondering what he would fill that pool with. I hope its not zombie-clone-versions of me.

The detail in the zombie processing made me wonder where the story was going. I interpreted that in context of our modern, manufactured, highly processed culture - where although the myth assumes a zombie is devoid of emotional depth, the additional processing ensures it is sufficiently disconnected and emptied out of any remaining messiness of life to produce an entirely detached experience of self-gratification. As in my personal experience with Mr. PDA, rather than a genuine connection, "There's something missing when you're kissing me." (Devotchka)

Eeeaauugggh. Wow that was disturbing. Even more disturbing than this hypothetical world is the fact that it was pulled out of Mr. Bey's brain. What must it look like in there? That question will give me nightmares for years to come.

Which is to say, your story was very effective, Matthew! Eeaaauggh.

Some good humor in there too. Such as the mention of it being a "family friendly" facility, and that, by a very believable perversion of ideals, severing male genitalia with a bolt cutter is considered G-rated, but the male genitalia themselves are R-rated.

Did anyone else get the impression the woman was committing suicide at the end? The snuggleflesh lack teeth or fingernails to tear her apart, but she still seemed to sink into the pool pretty fast, and I imagine she will be smothered before she surfaces.